


Erase These Memories

by Beckyjanestylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:19:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckyjanestylinson/pseuds/Beckyjanestylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only one Louis can bring himself to open up to is Harry. It's a pity that that proves to be a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erase These Memories

“You faggot piece of shit!”   
The air was forced out of Louis’ lungs as he was slammed repeatedly against the locker, his feeble hands scrabbling to try and stop his face getting too bloodied; the last thing he needed was his mum getting suspicious about more blood on his shirt. But he knew all too well that he wouldn’t be able to escape. More insults were hurled at him, not particularly inventive, or new, but hurtful all the same. This situation, or some variation of it, happened to him every day, had been ever since he’d started secondary school aged eleven. He was now thirteen. Almost three years of his life spent being abused and made to feel like he meant nothing to everybody. Apparently gays weren’t accepted here, and Louis had found that out the hard way. He’d never hidden his sexuality, and that was his big mistake. Once the ‘popular’ kids found out, there was no going back or hiding who he was. He was always covered in bruises on every inch of his body, and often had to stay off school because of the severity of them. Of course, the next day the bullies would call him a coward, ditching to avoid them. At least when he was at home he got a break from the bullies, although the voices in his head never desisted.   
It was only a small group, but it was enough to hurt Louis, both mentally and physically. He’d never been the strongest of people, and he didn’t even have friends to help him. One bully in particular was the worst, seemingly determined to make Louis’ life as shit as possible. You would have thought that after so long, he could have blanked their torments, but Louis was too sensitive. He always let things get to him, and couldn’t erase them from his memory.  
And that’s where it all started for Louis really.  
When his mum had found out he was being bullied that badly, she’d immediately organised for him to transfer schools. His old school had offered to expel the bullies and let Louis stay on, but Jay felt that a fresh start was required. Louis wasn’t particularly bothered where he went. He knew chances of him making friends anywhere were slim.   
Things weren’t too bad at his new school though. To his surprise, he’d made some friends, although not many. He didn’t mind though, he’d take any he could get. Zayn and Niall and he supposed Perrie and Lou, although it was mainly just the three boys. A new school could solve the physical abuse, but the mental scarring still ran deep, and probably always would.  
Sometimes he felt Zayn had just taken him under his wing because he felt sorry for him. Thoughts like this came to mind on bad days, where he felt he couldn’t cope. When he was feeling more confident, he’d reason with himself that Zayn wouldn’t have stuck around for the past two years if he didn’t genuinely care.   
Zayn had befriended him just after he’d moved school; basically had found Louis crying in a bathroom after ditching maths, and demanded to know what was the matter. Initially Louis had been reluctant; he hated depending on others, but Zayn had been persistent. He hadn’t told him everything; no one knew everything, but he’d told him enough. At first he’d lived in constant fear of being betrayed by Zayn, but the other boy had proved he was trustworthy, and to this day still only Zayn and Niall knew. It wasn’t a big thing really. It was just that they were the only ones who knew Louis beyond his facade; he wasn’t really as happy as he made out to be. He often just couldn’t cope, couldn’t find a reason to smile. Zayn and Niall knew how vulnerable Louis actually was, although they didn’t really know why. They always made sure to be there for Louis, helping him as best they could, and Louis appreciated that, but they couldn’t do a lot. The main problem was that they didn’t know why he got so down. Louis had never told them and it didn’t seem like he ever would. They were curious, but knew not to push and make Louis uncomfortable or defensive.  
It had taken quite a while for Louis to fully trust Niall and Zayn. Sure, they both knew his secret and hadn’t told, but he still felt as though they could be lulling him into a false sense of security. At first, he was very quiet, barely speaking and not liking to make himself too noticeable when they ate together at lunch time. Over time though, he’d started to realise they were valuable friends, probably some of the best he could get. He’d stopped being so paranoid about them turning their backs on him, and was even quite extroverted around them when he was having a good day.  
So Niall and Zayn knew him the best, but there was one very big chunk that they didn’t know. Louis self harmed, and had since just after the bullying seriously began. His arms were lined with ridged scars, white lines creating complicated interwoven patterns. Louis didn’t know how they hadn’t realised, but they hadn’t. There’d been a few close calls at sleepovers and changing for PE, but Louis was crafty and smart enough to figure out how to hide them efficiently. He became somewhat of an expert at it. Louis felt as though if he exposed that part of himself to anybody they’d ditch him; declare him pathetic and laugh in his face. He trusted Niall and Zayn with almost everything, but not this.  
The main reason for his cutting was all the names; faggot, queer, fairy, cock sucker, worthless, and all the rest. He couldn’t just laugh it off like some people did; they really stung. Although the bullying had stopped, the names still resounded in his head like an overly catchy song, and he couldn’t get them out. He repeated them to himself endlessly, over and over, until the water in his showers was salty and red with a mixture of tears and blood.  
Sometimes he managed to go for periods without cutting – the longest to record was just over two months. But he always turned back to the razor like it was his well worn comfort blanket.  
***  
Today was a good day for Louis. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t control when he had them – if he could, every day would be a good day. He just wasn’t feeling as negative as he normally did, and felt like maybe he could actually cope with being a faggot, even if it was just for this 24 hour period of time.  
It was just as well that today was the day the new student arrived. If his first impression of Louis had been when he was having a bad day, then he probably would have turned tail and ran a mile like most of the rest. Louis was not pleasant when he was feeling down. He was grateful that Niall and Zayn were so understanding; when he was like that they simply left him alone, waiting for him to return to – well, not normal, because Louis didn’t believe he ever could be ‘normal’, but to his typical state.  
However, when Niall came bounding up with a bewildered looking boy in tow, Louis’ smile was genuine and not at all bitter.  
Zayn was sat opposite Louis at their lunch table, and pulled Niall away from the unknown boy and into a brief kiss. Zayn and Niall were a couple of 18 months, and would probably be voted ‘most likely to stay together’ in the yearbooks when they finished school in about six months time. This new school was much more accepting of gays, and that’s why Louis’ experience here was a more positive one. He, Niall and Zayn hadn’t been grouped together just because they were gay – Zayn had befriended him before either knew the other’s sexuality, and that was what made Louis feel more at ease. Additionally, Perrie and Lou, and some of their other friends, were all straight. Louis just liked the diversity of it.  
When Niall and Zayn broke apart, Niall turned to the boy who was standing awkwardly at the end of the table. He was tall and thin, with a mass of curly hair and green eyes. He was wearing the same uniform as every other student, but the trousers were just a bit too tight, he was wearing chunky boots, a beanie rammed down over his curls and several necklaces were dangling around his neck.   
To Louis, he was just another kid who could potentially hate him.  
“Sit down next to Lou” Niall said to the boy, gesturing to the vacant seat. When they were all seated, Niall suddenly appeared to remember that he was the only one who had a clue of who everybody else on the table was. “Guys, this is Harry. Harry, this is Louis, and my boyfriend Zayn.”  
At the word boyfriend, Zayn and Louis studied Harry shrewdly, scrutinising his reaction, but he didn’t appear bothered, simply murmuring hello to the other two.  
He seemed a bit quiet, but Louis supposed that it was just simply nerves of starting a new school. He guessed he’d been like it too, although he couldn’t really remember. Memories like that had been lost among build ups of numerous bad memories that would taunt Louis at every opportunity.  
Evidently Niall also picked up on the quietness. “Hey, Harry, are you okay? You seem a bit quieter than you were in maths.”  
“Niall!” Zayn hissed, while Louis kicked his foot. Niall had a way of voicing everything the other two were too polite to say, and often didn’t think about the consequences. Harry might resent the personal question, and feel as though Niall was being too pushy after less than a day of knowing him.  
Harry didn’t seem too offended, simply shrugging and mumbling something about being fine. Louis looked at him for a few moments, before brushing it off. If he was a new kid, he wouldn’t like to be observed like he was being experimented on. There was something more to Harry’s quietness – like he was twitchy, scared someone would pick up on a secret he’d been hiding. Louis knew all too well about secrets, and so gave Harry his privacy.  
“So you two have lessons together?” Zayn asked Niall, nodding towards Harry. He was attempting to make conversation in order to ease the tension and make Harry feel more comfortable.  
Niall nodded, mumbling something incoherently around a mouthful of Doritos. Zayn just laughed, kissing his cheek before redirecting the question to Harry. “Care to explain? I do apologise for Niall’s manners.”  
Harry shot him a smile, looking slightly more relaxed now, although still on edge. “We had psychology first, and then I had maths with him and Lou.”  
Zayn nodded while Louis shuddered. Psychology was a subject to steer clear of for him. If he’d taken it as an option, he didn’t even want to think about what the connotations of his thoughts would be. Best leave them in his head, not put down on paper for the world to see how much of a fucked up mess he really was.  
***  
When Harry walked into the canteen and saw him, he thought his eyes had been playing tricks. Out of all the schools he could have moved to, his mum had to choose Louis’. There was no doubt that it was Louis – he hadn’t changed at all. Now, he just had a lot less bruises and looked slightly happier, although still not completely content.  
And then Niall had gone and led him right up to the table where Louis was sat, oblivious to Harry’s distress. Harry had thought his cover had been blown, that at any second Louis would look at him with disgust. He hoped he didn’t seem too nervous, as that could give the game away, but he couldn’t help it. It was typical that this would happen to him.  
When Louis didn’t recognise him, he’d been slightly surprised, but thankful. After all, he had changed a lot since then. He’d grown out his curls, obviously grown physically, stopped wearing his glasses, lost the chubbiness around his cheeks and his style of clothing was different. His voice had got deeper with puberty, and he’d even changed his surname to his dad’s after realising Harry Cox could be interpreted in ways that weren’t particularly good. His new name, Harry Styles, wasn’t the best either, but it beat being compared to a dick.  
Thinking about it, he didn’t know how he hadn’t been bullied back then. He presumed that the other kids must have been too scared to pick on him. That thought made him feel ashamed of his former self.  
Now, he had to face up to Louis, the boy he bullied two years ago. Yes, Harry had been Louis’ bully from the start of secondary school until the day Louis left and Harry was expelled. He’d bullied other kids too, but Louis was his main target, the one he hurt most. His hands had left shadowy bruises across Louis’ delicate face; his mouth had unleashed words with such force that they alone had sent Louis crumpling to the floor. It was bad enough thinking about those days, let alone have a living reminder right in front of him. Louis couldn’t find out it was him, he would most definitely condemn him if he did, so it looked like Harry would be living a lie for the last six months of school.  
He’d never known what happened to Louis after he transferred; never really paid him much thought. He was here now though, and Harry got a good look at him. Harry was extremely perceptive, and could sense the falsities behind Louis’ laughs, the hidden meanings behind his words. Something wasn’t right, and Harry knew he was the cause of that. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix it.  
He didn’t know why Louis was the kid he’d chosen to bully; he was just an easy target. Harry hadn’t been a nice kid, and only now did he truly understand the effects of that. Karma’s a bitch.  
Since he’d bullied Louis, Harry had had a complete change of attitude. His mum had gone mental when she’d been called in to the headteacher’s office and informed why he was being expelled. She’d cried a lot, and he’d been grounded for 6 weeks. It wasn’t the lack of freedom that bothered Harry though – it was how distraught his mum was. He couldn’t stand to think that he’d made her like that – was he really that awful a person? She’d been more disappointed than he’d ever seen her before, and wouldn’t speak to him for days. That incident had really shaken him up, and at his new school he’d never said a bad word to anyone. Now, all of those memories were coming back to him, and he saw the consequences his actions had.  
The boys talked a bit during lunch – most of the conversations initiated by Niall and Zayn. Louis never spoke much anyway, and Harry was still terrified that he could say something without thinking and Louis would realise who he was.  
When the bell rang, Harry discovered to his dismay that his next lesson, science, was with Louis. The two of them headed in the opposite direction from Niall and Zayn, not really saying much.  
Louis offered Harry the seat next to him, which was empty. Harry couldn’t say no and hurt Louis and besides, it was better to be with someone he vaguely knew than a total stranger. Louis had shown no signs of recognition yet anyway, which was a good sign.  
They got out their stuff, and the teacher walked in the room almost immediately, so there wasn’t a lot of time for talking.  
Louis began the exercise they’d been set, but just as he finished the first question he felt a large hand on his wrist, putting just a bit too much pressure. He jumped, rubbing the sore area through his sleeve.   
Harry tore his hand away like he’d been stung. “Sorry” he murmured guiltily. “Just wanted to know if you had a pen I could borrow.” He assumed he’d crossed some kind of boundary, intruding on Louis’ personal space. He didn’t realise that his action had caused the other boy actual physical pain.  
“S’fine.” Louis replied, forcing a smile of reassurance. Harry wasn’t to know, and Zayn and Niall accidentally and unknowingly touched his scars and scabs often enough. He dropped his hand from his wrist and got a pen out of his pencil case, handing it to Harry. “Here.”  
“Thanks” Harry said, relaxing minimally.   
Louis watched as Harry uncapped the pen and wrote out the date in a slightly messy yet elegant font. He frowned slightly. “Hey, your handwriting seems really familiar.”  
“D-does it?” Harry stuttered, immediately panicky. Louis would probably have seen his handwriting numerous times when he’d had the misfortune of sitting next to Harry in English at their old school. Not to mention the many hate notes Harry had left in Louis’ locker. Harry just hoped Louis couldn’t put two and two together.  
To his relief, Louis shrugged. “Must have similar handwriting to someone I know” he said simply, and then dropped the subject.  
Overall, science was relatively painless, and he found that Louis was actually a genuinely nice guy, even if he didn’t smile a lot. No more worrying comments were made, but the fact that Louis was so friendly made Harry feel even worse. Louis probably could have been a much brighter character if he hadn’t ruined him. Thoughtless comments had probably destroyed his self esteem, and it didn’t look like it had been rebuilt.  
***  
As the week went on, Harry and Louis began to talk more during their science lessons and at lunch time. The lunch table arrangement was always Zayn and Niall on one side, being ridiculously romantic, and Louis and Harry on the other, mucking around with their food.  
Louis still showed no signs of recognising Harry, and with each day Harry began to grow in hope that Louis would never know who he was. He felt bad for lying but he’d come to value Louis’ friendship and didn’t want to ruin it. In fact, he found himself looking forward to their science lessons, so that he could spend time alone with him, even though he knew that was sad and probably made him a bit of a stalker.  
As for Louis, he found that Harry’s presence relieved the pressure slightly. He didn’t know how or why, and that was slightly unnerving. All he knew was that whenever he was with the curly haired boy, he felt happier than he had in a long time. Harry’s initial awkwardness had worn off, and he understood Louis like no one else had before, even if he knew virtually none of his story.  
Harry had been at Louis’ school for just over a week when Louis had his first proper bad day. His emotions had been fluctuating all week as they always did, but he hadn’t felt seriously down. He’d only had brief moments. But on this Wednesday, he’d woken up and just couldn’t face it anymore. He’d always hated Wednesdays, not for any particular reason, they were just a generally grim day. He’d looked at himself in the mirror – ugly. Looked at the way his sweat pants and t-shirt hung awkwardly off his sharp frame – repulsive. Surveyed his body in the shower – faggot. So he did what he’d done countless times before, reached for the razor. He dragged it over scars that had healed – reopening them and refusing to let his body fix itself properly. The sharp edge felt like the touch of an angel, the blade bringing promises of relief and a release of mental torture. The skin broke easily, skin edges unfurling like the delicate petals of a pale rose, revealing the capturing things to behold within. His arm was soon laced with red, beautiful scarlet that told the stories of his worthlessness.   
When he could no longer find space that wasn’t bleeding, he shut off the water and chased the last of the blood down the drain, although his arm was still covered in the warm red liquid. He never bothered with plasters anymore – after the first few times you forget health. After all, the whole point of self harm is that you don’t care about yourself or your body, so he honestly didn’t care if they got infected.  
He held his arm close to his body as he quickly went to his room – his mum was always too nosy for his liking. He quickly shrugged on a dark, baggy jumper – he had copious amounts of these, as it was just easier that way.   
The first two lessons passed in a daze, Louis not paying attention to the teacher as was the usual on days like this. Instead, he scribbled dark designs in the margins, his pen leaving angry indents that ran several pages deep. He supposed the patterns his pen made could be compared to his scars.  
Louis felt the overwhelming urge to create more scars – the sensation of the razor destroying his skin was addictive, and after five years he was still craving it. He never cut in school though – too suspicious. Instead, he idly traced his nails down to his wrist, digging them in forcefully, but it was never enough to bring the release that only metal blades could.  
When Harry saw him at the lunch table, he instantly detected a change. Louis was hunched in his seat, facing slightly away from Zayn and Niall. Harry couldn’t see what Louis was doing from this angle, but it seemed like he was just sullenly sat there.  
Sure enough, when Harry sat at the table, he found that Louis was just staring into his lap. The other boy made no acknowledgement of his presence, which Harry found a little offensive. He observed Louis, but his posture didn’t change all that much, and Harry couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this.  
Then something dawned on him – had Louis realised? He ran over this possibility in his head, but then decided that surely Louis would still be speaking to Niall and Zayn if he was only mad at Harry’s past actions. Besides, he might have told them and they would be acting weird with him too. They were acting completely normally, laughing and joking and acting as if there was not another person sat at the table acting as if the world didn’t exist. Harry wanted to ask if they knew what the matter was, but he couldn’t with Louis there. He wondered if their comfort signified if this was something that happened a lot.  
***  
Harry had hoped Louis’ foul mood would blow over fairly quickly. It didn’t. He hadn’t spoken to him in science, and for the next two days he retained his attitude. Harry just couldn’t understand what the matter was, and was too scared to confront Louis about it.  
However, soon the curiosity gnawing away at him was too much, and he confronted Niall in maths.  
“Is Louis, like, I dunno, pissed off with me or something?”  
Niall seemed confused for a second, before understanding enlightened his features. “Oh, shit! No mate, it’s not you. Um, shit, I can’t really tell you. Zayn would put this much better than me” he rambled. Harry winced at his swearing, but didn’t comment, simply raising an eyebrow as a silent plead for him to continue.  
Niall sighed heavily. “Well don’t say I told you this much, ‘cause Louis’ a private person – like really private. And he trusts me and Zayn with this and well – anyway. Basically, he just isn’t all he makes out to be. He gets sad a lot, and that’s when he starts acting like this. If you want to know more, you’ll have to ask him yourself, but Zayn and I only really know that much. He doesn’t share a lot, and he’s never told us why. I think there’s a lot more than he’s letting on.”  
Harry felt his stomach sink. Obviously Louis wasn’t a very happy person, and an inkling of what could have caused that dawned in his mind. Could he really have caused such extreme unhappiness?   
***  
Eventually Louis returned to his normal self. One day he wasn’t talking to anyone, the next, he came to school beaming and talking to Harry like he had verbal diarrhoea. That was just the way his emotions worked.  
Harry had wanted to talk to Louis about what Niall had told him, but couldn’t bring himself to. If Louis hadn’t told Niall and Zayn, his best friends whom he’d known for two years, then he was hardly going to tell Harry – someone he’d known for a fortnight.  
So instead he let the mood blow over, and acted the same as ever when Louis decided to start talking again.  
***  
A couple of weeks – and several bad days – later, Zayn and Louis were talking. Niall and Harry had a maths detention, and so they were alone at lunch. They were just talking about random shit as usual, when the subject of relationships came up.  
“Did I tell you what Niall did the other day?” Zayn asked suddenly.  
“Uh, you’ve told me a lot of things Niall’s done. Some I could have done without hearing” Louis told him, rolling his eyes.  
“Whatever. Anyway, I woke up, looked in the mirror, and –”  
“I like the way the first thing you do is check yourself out” Louis cut him off.  
“Shut up! Anyway, look what Niall had done to me!” Zayn cried dramatically, shoving his phone under Louis’ nose. Louis looked at the picture displayed on it and let out a small laugh. The image showed Zayn, hair ruffled and eyes bleary from sleep, but with added decoration to his face. Niall had written in bold marker pen “Niall is a sexy mofo” across his face.  
“Nice addition” Louis commented.  
“I hate being a heavy sleeper!” Zayn lamented mournfully.  
“Stop complaining. I wish I had a boyfriend” Louis said, and then paused. Did he want a boyfriend? Boyfriends meant commitment, and Louis was scared to trust other people. Besides, who would think he looked nice enough to date?  
“Aw, don’t be sad Lou Lou, I’d totally suck your dick if I was single” Zayn said, ruffling his hair whilst Louis swatted his hand away.  
“Uh, thanks? Anyway, that’s not the point” he replied, hoping the subject would be dropped.  
However, true to his nature, Zayn remained persistent. “I could get you a boyfriend!”  
“I can cope perfectly fine Zayn, I was just joking” Louis said, hoping to sound convincing.  
“No! I know the perfect boy” Zayn said excitedly.  
“Who?” Louis was instantly wary.  
“Harry!”  
That shocked Louis. Harry was a friend. He’d never even really paid attention to whether he was attractive or not. Now that he thought about it, Harry wasn’t bad, but that wasn’t the point. Harry probably wouldn’t like him, and he’d rather just keep his friendship.   
“Zayn! He’s my mate! It would just be awkward when he has to turn me down.”  
“You like him though.” It wasn’t a question, and Zayn smirked triumphantly when Louis turned beetroot red. “I am a matchmaker! Look, I’ll get it out of him what he thinks of you – but I bet he’s just waiting to get into your pants - then I’ll work my magic and voila! One totally fit boyfriend for Louis.”  
Louis rolled his eyes again. He wasn’t sure about this, but there was no arguing with Zayn when he got an idea into his head. He just hoped the whole thing wouldn’t be too embarrassing.  
***  
Zayn had one lesson with Harry; RS, and he took his chance while he had it. Harry had made a comment about something Louis had said earlier, smiling like a sap as he retold the story.  
Zayn had detected the fond note, and pounced. “So what do you think of our Louis?” he asked, putting deliberate emphasis in his tone.  
Harry flushed, but pretended to be oblivious. “Well, he’s a really good friend, like, funny and that.” He knew his description was completely inadequate, but didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic.  
“Oh come on!” Zayn cried exasperatedly. “You know what I meant. Do you like him? As in a like like way?”  
Harry guiltily looked down, not meeting Zayn’s eyes as he mumbled “Yeah” into his chest.  
Zayn however, seemed to have ears like a hawk. “Excellent! Well you should totally ask him out, ‘cause you’d be cute together.”  
Harry shook his head vehemently. “Zayn! He’d turn me down.”  
“No, he wouldn’t. Don’t tell him I told you but he’s into you too. You’re perfect for each other, and he’s been a lot happier since you arrived. Please Haz.”  
He dragged out the please and Harry sighed. This was amazing, Louis was amazing, but being with him would definitely complicate things. Zayn didn’t know that though. He continued his persuasion when he received no reply from Harry. “I just want you both happy! And you can double date with me and Niall!”  
His enthusiasm was catching, and Harry’s willpower gave out. “Fine, I’ll think about it” he promised, partially to shut Zayn up but mostly because he really did want Louis to be his boyfriend. It was soon, but who cared?  
***  
After Zayn’s unexpected suggestion, Louis couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. He found his mind wandering in lessons, and things were even more confused in his brain than normal. He liked Harry, but did he like him enough?  
Sure, he’d never had a boyfriend and a relationship like the one Niall and Zayn had seemed pretty appealing, but he didn’t know if he could cope. He’d feel under constant pressure to be perfect, would have to take someone else into consideration other than himself. Louis didn’t know if he could open himself up that much; let someone in who didn’t see inside his brain, probably wouldn’t understand Louis’ feelings and his sensitivity. Anyway, he didn’t even know if Harry liked him that way. If Zayn asked, maybe Harry would just agree so as not to seem rude, and end up stringing Louis along only to break his heart.  
***  
By the time the last bell rang, Louis had made up his mind. He was going to tell Zayn not to bother; he was fine being single. Just as he headed to the dark skinned boy’s locker, where he’d hopefully be, his phone buzzed in his pocket and as he read the new text he realised it was too late to change Zayn’s mind; things had been put into action.  
From: Harry   
Hey, fancy coming over mine for a bit after school? x  
This was nothing new, he often went over Harry’s or one of the other boy’s after school, or had them come round to his. True, he was always the first to leave, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that this could have been just like any other day.  
But when he received the text, he knew it wasn’t just a normal visit. If it was, Harry would have mentioned it at lunch and probably asked Zayn and Niall over too. And it seemed like too big a coincidence for Harry to ask him over right after Zayn was supposed to have talked to him about dating Louis. Harry was either having him around to let him down gently, or to ask him out.  
Louis may not have been a sociable person, but he was still considerate, and so replied with a quick okay, before firing a text to his mum to let her know. He didn’t want Harry to feel he was blowing him off and set a track record before their relationship had even begun.   
Louis assumed Harry wanted to meet at his house, because he hadn’t said he’d wait at school, and Louis’ class had been let out quite late. Harry’s house was a short walk from the school, so he set off on foot. As he walked, his mind raced to try and form a response to whatever it was Harry was going to say to him.  
By the time he was knocking on Harry’s door, he still didn’t know whether he was going to agree if Harry asked him out. He was still fairly certain that Harry wouldn’t find him at all appealing. He couldn’t even stand himself, so he doubted that others could.  
Harry let him in and led him up to his room, neither of them saying a lot. He unsurely sat down on Harry’s bed, waiting for him to say something.  
Harry sat down next to him, thighs brushing, and he seemed just as tense. After a beat of silence, Harry took a deep breath and looked Louis direct in the eye.  
“So Zayn cornered you too?” he asked, skirting around the subject, too nervous to broach it directly.  
Louis let out a tense laugh, shifting his leg away slightly. “Yeah, um, I mean, things don’t have to be awkward” he began.  
“Lou, of course they don’t. Especially because I’d really like you to go out with me.”  
Oh. Louis had known that that was a possibility, but had never honestly considered it. He’d been convinced that Harry would find him so repulsive that he wouldn’t even have been able to even consider dating Louis. But Harry had proved him wrong. Belatedly, he realised he needed to respond to Harry, as he was probably coming across as a bit of an arrogant twat.  
Louis found himself nodding without ever making the decision to. Harry was beaming at him, shifting closer to him on the bed, and there was no going back now. However, if him and Harry were actually going to be in a relationship, he needed to at least be a bit honest with Harry, even if he wasn’t going to tell him everything.  
“Of course I’ll go out with you. But” he held up a hand of warning as Harry began to protest. “Shh, Hazzi. Hear me out, ‘cause this isn’t very easy for me to say. You’re only the third person to know this, after Niall and Zayn. I know you’ve probably picked up, because I’ve seen the worried looks you sometimes give me. I just feel like you need to know why I sometimes act like I do, and know that it’s never down to you, it’s just down to my head. I get sad a lot; like, proper sad, I guess depressed, although I haven’t been diagnosed. Times like this, I need to be alone, from everyone and that would include you. I don’t trust people very easily, and letting people in isn’t something I do a lot. I don’t hold back purposefully, I’m just paranoid. And I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but if you can’t understand that, then I can’t be with you.”  
By the end of his monologue, he was shaking with nerves. He’d only confessed that twice before, and never in as many words. It sounded like he was giving Harry an ultimatum, even though he was only trying to spare him future hurt and confusion in the future. Besides, he might surprise himself and find himself opening up a lot to Harry and letting the other boy (his boyfriend?) help him. It was a slim chance, but a nice thought.  
Harry pulled him in to his stomach, holding him close while still maintaining eye contact. “Lou, of course I understand, and I’ll give you space. Thank you for trusting me.”  
Louis relaxed slightly in his arms, melting into his touch.  
***  
When Louis had confessed all that to Harry, Harry’s heart had been beating so hard he could hear it pounding in his ears. His suspicions were confirmed; Louis wasn’t as carefree as he acted. Something had caused that, something very bad. Harry had a sneaking suspicion of what it was. He felt extremely guilty, not only because of how he’d acted five years ago, but also because Louis had been so brutally honest with him, and he’d been keeping this massive thing from Louis.  
***  
The next day at lunch, when Harry walked in, Louis wasted no time in pulling him into a soft kiss. Harry was surprised; the previous night they’d only kissed twice, and Louis seemed quite shy when it came to physical affection.  
As for Louis, he was quite apprehensive about kissing Harry, but once he’d realised that Harry liked kissing him, he started to loosen up a bit. He’d been worried that Harry would flinch away, or find his technique off-putting (Louis had never kissed anyone). But truth was, when he saw Harry walk into the lunchroom, he couldn’t help himself. He’d quickly come to love the feeling of kissing Harry. It was the perfect balance between soft and rough, possessive but caring, and Harry tasted like minty chewing gum and orange squash. His lips moved accordingly beneath Louis’, and guided him, instilling confidence into Louis. The sensation was overpowering, filling Louis’ mind. Harry’s hand rested on the small of his back, holding Louis close to him and protecting him, like Harry’s hand on Louis’ spine was a link to open up the positive side of Louis’ brain. It reminded him that there was positivity into the world, gave him promises of a better future, and gave him something he could rarely find within himself; hope. Hope that maybe one day he could be okay, would look in the mirror and see something he was proud of. Hope that came from just one curly haired boy.  
When they broke away from the kiss, both smiling, they linked hands and sank ungracefully into the seats opposite their friends. Zayn was smirking triumphantly, whilst Niall looked as excited as a kid at Disneyland.  
“You’re together?” Niall asked, and was met by nods.  
“Told you my plan would work!” Zayn announced triumphantly.  
“Yeah, thanks mate” Louis smiled genuinely at him. Maybe Zayn had just helped him get something that would help him more than Louis could ever have imagined.  
***  
The first few months of Louis’ relationship with Harry were amazing. He smiled more than he had in the whole of the rest of his life. Harry never pushed him, gave him time when he needed it, and just made Louis feel like he was wanted.  
Harry said I love you after five weeks. It was completely unexpected, and Louis had cried. He’d never thought someone could love him, and didn’t know how to respond. Harry had hugged him, murmuring the phrase repeatedly into his hair. However many times Harry said it, Louis didn’t think he could get tired of hearing those three simple words.  
“I’m sorry – it’s just. No one’s ever – you’re just so perfect Hazzi. But I’m afraid you’ll be offended – ”  
Harry cut him off. “Lou, if you don’t want to say it back, don’t feel obliged too. I know you don’t like letting people in, and I never want you to feel you have to do something to please me. I don’t doubt you care. Take your time sweetie.”  
He rubbed Louis’ back as he breathed deeply. “I’m sorry” Louis sobbed, and Harry promised that he didn’t need to be sorry for anything.  
Louis said I love you eight days later. He didn’t say it because he felt he had to – he hadn’t even known he was going to say it before the words slipped from his lips like they’d been balancing on the edge of his tongue since forever. He’d wanted to, and Harry’s reaction had been as good as he hoped. Harry had taken his hands and covered them in kisses (Louis got a little nervous when he got too near to his wrists, but Harry didn’t move his sleeves) before kissing Louis passionately on the lips and whispering the phrase back to him.  
Harry had been a bit overcome when Louis said I love you. How could the boy he bullied love him? The secret was eating away at him more and more every day. He wasn’t stupid; he knew he’d have to tell Louis some day. He was just waiting for the right time. He didn’t want to make Louis have any more days when he was properly sad – he’d been so happy lately.  
***  
Being with Harry gave Louis a distraction. He still needed time alone, but nowadays it normally wasn’t whole days, just brief periods. His burden seemed to be lighter, and he would be forever grateful to Harry for giving him a reason to smile.  
Harry didn’t bring up Louis’ depression often, but he always made sure Louis was okay – checking up on him in his own cute little ways. Louis felt reassured, loved the fact that Harry remembered to constantly consider Louis, making life easier for him any way he could. He never pushed their relationship, happy to leave it at stages where Louis felt comfortable. What was the point in pushing when their relationship wasn’t far off perfect anyway? He often felt urges brought on by his hormones, but it was nothing a few flicks of his wrist couldn’t solve. Harry could suppress himself as long as Louis didn’t feel uncomfortable.  
His razor remained shut away in the back of his drawer, dust settling on it. Louis barely even thought about it. He counted the days he went without cutting, and grew more and more confident as each week ticked by. At the moment he hadn’t cut for eleven weeks – the longest he’d ever been. That was all down to Harry.  
Louis had been thinking for a while. Harry had made him achieve this length of being clean, and now he felt like he owed him something. They were at Louis’, just messing around, kissing and talking and just being themselves.  
Harry was kissing his cheek repeatedly, when Louis cupped his face to stop him and turned his body so they were facing each other on the bed.  
“Harry, can I tell you a secret?” he asked seriously, struggling to get the words out around the lump in his throat.  
Harry frowned, confused at the abrupt change in conversation. “You can tell me anything” he replied honestly. He had slight worries that Louis was going to tell him the reason for his depression, spin a horrible tale about the bullying he’d endured. Harry didn’t know if he could cope with that.   
However, his worries were pushed aside, instantly forgotten, when Louis began to roll back his sleeves. He turned his wrists over, and at first Harry was puzzled. They seemed whiter than normal – oh. Then it dawned on him what the eerie paleness was. Scar upon scar upon scar. “Lou” he breathed, reaching out to touch an arm and then looking at Louis for confirmation that this was okay. Louis nodded, tears brimming in his eyes.  
With one hand, Harry stroked the tears away, and he used the other to trace up and down Louis’ arm, the scars creating a bumpy texture. Some were more faded than others, but they all told a story of Louis’ hate for himself.  
“I’ve never – you’re the first person I’ve told” Louis choked out.  
Harry kissed his arm gently, and the feel of his lips felt like they alone could cure Louis, if only temporarily.  
Harry didn’t say anything for a while, simply covered Louis’ arms in kisses, tracing each scar and hating the thought that Louis could detest himself so much that he would do this.  
“I’ve been clean for eleven weeks” Louis whispered. “Since just before we started dating.”  
“I’m proud of you. Please, just come to me, talk to me if you need to? I know it might not be the same, but I want to help. You don’t deserve this, you’re beautiful.”  
“I’ll try” Louis promised.  
***  
True to his word, Louis tried, and unlike ever before, he actually succeeded. Harry was fixated with his wrists, and in school he would sometimes slip his thumb inside Louis’ jumper, smoothing over the rough skin. He had no idea how nice it felt to Louis, almost as nice as the feel of the razor slashing his skin. But the razor was becoming a distant memory.  
Louis wasn’t sure how he came to be naked with Harry kneeling down in front of him, but here he was, sat on Harry’s bed, legs stretched so wide his muscles burned.  
Harry knew Louis was inexperienced, and had promised to take things slow, which was why they’d left it so long before actually doing anything.   
“You okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the tip of Louis’ cock and holding his quivering thighs.  
Louis nodded, biting his lip and looking down at Harry. Harry slowly traced his tongue down Louis’ cock, and back up, leaving a warm, wet trail. Louis closed his eyes and leaned back, already feeling the heat beginning to pool in his stomach.  
Harry covered just the head of Louis’ cock, forming a tight ring around it and sucking expertly, Louis groaning beneath him. Harry inched further down, painfully slowly and Louis unclenched his hand from the bedsheet, fisting it in Harry’s curls and pulling him impatiently down onto his cock, sighing as he felt Harry’s cheeks wet the sensitive skin.  
Harry bobbed his head, fisting his hand around what he couldn’t take, and Louis struggled not to buck his hips. The sensation was completely overwhelming. He’d always assumed people (namely Niall and Zayn) had been over-exaggerating their sexual experiences, but now he understood what was so amazing. He felt connected to Harry, and his boyfriend looked so pretty with his swollen lips around Louis’ red, angry cock.  
“Haz” he moaned, and Harry released his iron grip on Louis’ thighs, revealing red marks of fingernails and transferring them instead to his arms, where his touch was much lighter. He made each scar feel loved, like this marred skin was actually something to not be ashamed of, something that told Louis’ story and made him beautiful.  
The scars tingled, and it only added to the overwhelming sensation of being with Harry in this way. Louis bucked his hips, fucking into Louis’ mouth, stretching his lips. Harry’s throat constricted but he wasn’t deterred, taking Louis’ full length, flicking his tongue around the head. “I love you” Louis moaned, impossibly quietly but so passionate it was like a drum in Harry’s mind.  
In response, Harry hummed around his dick, which Louis guessed was supposed to be a returned I love you. He shivered as vibrations shot up his length, balls drawing up tight. A string of profanities left his lips as he came, Harry pulling off just in time to catch most of it over his face and swallowing that which entered his mouth.   
He moved his hand down to his own dick, flicking his wrist twice before he too was coming, lacing his stomach with white.  
He licked the come he could reach, before locking his lips with Louis’, gentle and comforting, promises to Louis that he wouldn’t leave.  
***  
The first time Louis fell from his high, he fell bad. Things had been going great, then out of the blue, he seemed to fall down a pit for no reason, and not even Harry could get him out of it.  
One day, he’d just woken up and it had slammed into him like a brick wall. It was like someone had set a tape in his head on replay, chanting “worthless worthless worthless”. It didn’t matter how many “I love you”s he got from Harry, it didn’t make Louis love himself any more. If anything, it made things worse. He couldn’t see why he deserved Harry’s love, he felt like a fraud.  
He felt himself pushing Harry away without fully meaning to, he just couldn’t bring himself to talk. Zayn and Niall were used to it, but Harry was still adapting. He tried his best though, and Louis’ love for him was almost as strong as his hate for himself. Harry knew that Louis needed to be alone, and gave him his space, but was still sure to make sure he was okay, and every whispered question reminded Louis that Harry would be there if he really felt like he was drowning in his emotions.  
True to his word, Harry immediately picked up when, after three days, Louis phoned up. He was met by sobs, coming strangled down the line, and was instantly alert.  
“Lou, honey?”  
“Harry, I need to, I can’t hold it in any more.”  
“Lou, you’ve done so well, I’m proud of you. I’ll be right around, okay? But please remember, I won’t be angry if you feel too compressed. Just do what’s best for you.”  
Harry was fairly panicked, not quite sure of what to do. He’d never self harmed himself, and didn’t know anyone other than Louis who did.   
He begged his mum to drive him to Louis’, words tripping over each other as he explained how he couldn’t tell her exactly why, but still conveyed the urgency. When she saw her son’s distressed state, she immediately agreed, and within five minutes he was knocking at Louis’ house.  
Jay ushered him in, smiling brightly, oblivious to her distraught son upstairs. She told him to go straight up to Louis’ room, and he almost fell up the stairs in his haste. The door slammed into the wall, probably making a mark, but Harry didn’t care, he just wanted to get to Louis.  
He scanned the room until his eyes settled on Louis, hunched in bed and swaddled in one of Harry’s gigantic hoodies. Harry sat down, pulling Louis in so that he was cuddled in a ball into his chest, still sobbing. “I’m sorry” he murmured into Harry’s shirt, and Harry instantly lifted his wrist, guessing what Louis meant.  
He gently pushed back Louis’ sleeves, blood smearing up Louis’ arm as he did so. He noticed the razor further up the bed, near the pillow. “Don’t be sorry” he whispered. “Shall we get you cleaned up?”   
Louis made no move to do anything, so Harry lifted him as he stood up and gently placed him onto the bed, kissing his forehead. He quickly went to the bathroom, foraging through the medicine cabinet until he found some antiseptic wipes, and headed back into the bedroom. He would have got plasters too, but hadn’t been able to find any and was worried about leaving Louis alone for too long.   
When he re-entered the room, Louis was in much the same position as before, blood trickling onto the hoodie and leaving a dark stain, much like the dark cloud in Louis’ mind. Harry drew his arm away carefully, trying not to gasp as he properly surveyed the damage. He’d obviously had some idea from the scars, but had never seen them so fresh, so startling against Louis’ milky skin. “Is it okay if I...?” Harry gestured vaguely to the antiseptic wipes and Louis nodded almost imperceptibly.  
He gently cleared the blood away, going carefully whenever he reached a fresh cut. There weren’t that many, only about three or four, but they were long and deep. Louis occasionally let out a hiss of pain, but wasn’t too bothered; pain was nothing new to him. It was just an automatic instinct.  
When Louis’ arm was in a better state, Harry turned to dispose of the blood soaked wipes into the bin. When he turned back, Louis had pulled the duvet over his head and Harry could only tell he was there by the lump in the duvet.  
“Louis?” Harry asked cautiously, unsure whether it would be wise to join Louis under the duvet or to just leave him be. The duvet shifted in response, and Harry sighed. “I’m coming under, okay?” Harry guessed if Louis really didn’t want Harry to come under the duvet, he’d at least make some noise of protest, but he did nothing, so Harry slowly pushed the duvet back. He climbed underneath, and when he was lying next to Louis, Louis sharply pulled the duvet back over the both of their heads.  
When Harry’s eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he lifted Louis’ arm and began peppering it with kisses, everywhere he could reach. Louis closed his eyes and Harry would have thought he was asleep if he couldn’t hear the breathy sighs escaping his mouth every time Harry’s lips touched a particularly sensitive spot.   
Harry paused his kissing to look up at Louis, murmuring “Lou, would it be okay if we got out of this duvet? It’s really hot babe.”  
Louis used his free arm to push the duvet down, he and Harry simultaneously wriggling up the bed. Harry silently took the razor from beside his head, placing it on the bedside table without pausing to look at the rust red blood stains still on it.  
“You don’t deserve this. You’re way too special” Harry told Louis, kissing him softly, one hand cupping his cheek and the other on his hip.  
Louis stared back at him sadly. “I’m really not. Enough people in my life have told me so, they’ll be happy to know I got the message.”  
Harry’s heart started racing as he detected the undertone to Louis’ sentence. “What do you mean honey? Like who?”  
Louis rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, knees pressed up against Harry’s chest. “Promise not to laugh at me?”  
Louis had never told anybody other than his mum about the bullying for one simple reason. He was ashamed. He was so weak people had beaten him up for three years of his life. Who could be that severely lacking in strength? He was a pathetic excuse for a person and didn’t want people to know that, to feel like he was a letdown. But Harry had been so sweet, taken care of him and accepted that he needed to cut, even if he didn’t like or understand it.   
“I’d never laugh” Harry promised, nuzzling his nose into the sweet scent of Louis’ hair.  
Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. “Okay, no one knows what started this apart from my mum, not even Niall and Zayn. At the start of secondary school, I got bullied, like, really badly. I got hit, kicked, slammed into lockers, all that physical stuff, but that wasn’t the worst. I used to get called all the gay labels in the book, any derogatory term, as well as be left hate notes. Every name just took away a bit of my confidence until there was nothing left, only hate. I got worn down until there was nothing left to wear down, so I took it out on my skin instead, and cut myself. I transferred schools, but you can’t just wipe away your memory. I still am all those things they called me Harry and I always will be.”  
Harry couldn’t even form a response. He just lay there, holding Louis, and it took him a second or two to realise he was crying. Louis was the one calling for help here, and yet Harry was crying. His tears dropped onto Louis’ hair, and he tried to steady himself. Hearing his actions put in Louis’ words ripped him apart, it was the most painful thing he’d ever had to endure, yet probably still not half as painful as the abuse he’d put Louis through.  
He knew he had to tell Louis, but at the same time didn’t want to lose him, or hurt him more. It was a dilemma that Harry could see no way out of.  
“Louis” he found his lips moving almost without command. “Louis I’m so sorry.”  
“Why are you sorry? S’not your fault. Was the dicks at my old school.”  
“But that’s just it Louis. I’m the same person; I’m Harry Cox.”  
“You...what? No, that’s...he’s a dick! Not you” Louis was shaking his head and covering his ears, refusing to believe the boy he’d fallen in love with was the boy who’d made him come to hate himself so much, who’d put him through years of torment.  
“Louis, I’m so sorry. If I could turn back time I would. I don’t know why I was such a twat, I hate myself, I honestly do. Seeing you broken like that...I just want to fix you.”   
They were both crying by now, and Louis wouldn’t look Harry in the eye.  
“I think you’d better leave” Louis said in a scarily calm voice, void of emotion towards Harry.  
“Lou, please, I’ve changed, don’t you see?”  
“GET OUT!” Louis shouted, and Harry whimpered sadly. Louis was angrier than he’d ever been and Harry had no choice but to hurriedly scramble out of the bed and down the stairs, tears flowing freely down his face.   
He had no idea how he got home, but he woke up several hours later in his own bed, tear marks still on his face and an ache in his heart.  
***  
Louis sighed as he sat at lunch, barely paying attention to Zayn and Niall. He could hardly stand to look at them. He knew it wasn’t fair, but seeing people in love wasn’t really helping him right now. It had been a week since he’d found out about Harry, and he’d fallen into a worse depression than ever. He cut at least once a day, deeper and more uncaring than ever. He hardly talked to anyone, and even Zayn and Niall were becoming worried at this point. They’d obviously found out that Harry and Louis had broken up; Harry stopped sitting with them at lunch and Louis flinched whenever his name came up in conversation.  
Louis had fobbed them off with some feeble excuse about Harry not being able to accept how broken he was. This had made Zayn and Niall furious with Harry, shooting him angry looks in the corridors, but Louis had begged them not to confront him. He knew it was low, but he figured Harry deserved to lose his friends after the way he’d treated Louis.  
Text after text dinged into his inbox from Harry, each one pleading for forgiveness, one more chance. This is what happened when you let people into your lives so completely, and Louis vowed not to do it again.  
Please Louis, one more chance. xx  
I’ve seen how sad you are, I just want to make it better : (  
I’m so sorry  
I can fix this, I can fix you xx  
I’m not the same person I was, let me prove it to you. I still love you and I always will  
These, and many more similar ones were sent by Harry on a daily basis, but Louis wasn’t giving in. If Harry hadn’t bullied him, he wouldn’t have been this wreck of a person in the first place. His whole life would have been completely different. His arms wouldn’t be lined with scars and he wouldn’t have days where he forgot how to smile. He wouldn’t be known as a freaky depressed kid. Harry had taken away his chances of complete happiness and self contentment, and Louis didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for that. He loved him, but maybe, just maybe, his hate outweighed that. True, Harry wanted to fix him, and he somewhat filled the empty void inside Louis, but if he hadn’t broken him in the first place then he wouldn’t have had to fix Louis. Everything was just a massive, fucked up circle.  
What made it worse was that when Louis saw Harry in person, he didn’t even look as if he meant the texts he sent. True, he was extremely quiet in science, but he didn’t really have much chance to talk, what with Louis refusing to answer anything he said. Thankfully they hadn’t been set any work to do in pairs yet; Louis dreaded the day when that happened.  
No, the thing that hurt Louis most was the new people Harry was hanging out with. George, Josh, Liam, Jaymi, Olly, Michael, Luke, Ashton. The “popular” gays. Although being gay wasn’t hated upon, Louis, Zayn and Niall had found that they hadn’t exactly had a wide selection of friends. They never minded too much though. However, these boys had the perfect balance in that they were fit enough for girls to love them, yet because they were gay had the desirable aura of being unattainable. Louis wouldn’t have minded in particular, if it wasn’t for Liam. Liam Payne had always been the “cute” one of that group; apparently innocent, although Louis doubted that that was strictly true. He’d seemed nice enough, but now Harry seemed to be paying just a bit too much attention to him.  
At lunch, Liam always seemed to have an arm around Harry, whispering to him, giggling with him, and altogether being way too close for Louis’ liking. He knew he wasn’t with Harry anymore, but the other boy could have at least shown respect and waited before flaunting his new arm candy in front of Louis’ face. Louis couldn’t draw his eyes away at lunch; it was like a new form of self harm. Harry was always smiling when he was with Liam, laughing and joking as if nothing had happened. Louis hated him for that; Harry didn’t deserve to be happy when Louis was such a mess.  
***  
Louis continued to float along in the same state of self loathing, until the day he finally broke down properly.  
He should have expected it really; Harry’s texts had been depleting rapidly, although still at least once a day. He’d still been as touchy feely as ever with Liam, and then it climaxed. Louis had been staring at them as usual, idly listening to Niall and Zayn squabbling over who was to have the last Haribo (they’d end up sharing, as usual).   
Out of the blue, Liam had leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek. Louis had blinked, before realising it had in fact happened. It had been nowhere near as long or passionate as their kisses, but it still hurt. Harry wasn’t supposed to move on, Harry was supposed to keep his promise and always love him. This just proved to Louis that Harry didn’t mean what he said; he could just as easily break him again as he had done all those years ago.  
Louis abruptly jumped up, stuffing his lunch stuff into his bag, and fleeing from the hall, Niall and Zayn staring worriedly after him. He spared one last glance to Harry’s table, only to see that Harry was completely oblivious to his sudden exit. He was too busy gazing adoringly at Liam.  
***  
Louis’ cuts weren’t just confined to his wrists anymore. Since he and Harry broke up, he’d found it almost boring to continue going over the same scars. Now, his thighs matched his arms. Co-ordination, now his body matched, Louis thought, a grim sense of happiness settling over him. He hardly paid attention to his slashes, the razor blade slicing through skin like butter, tears stinging as they fell into the fresh cuts. He was glad his mum wasn’t home. She didn’t need to see this.   
He was so caught up, he didn’t hear the front door open, only realised someone else’s presence when he heard the gasp. His blood ran cold, thinking it was his mum, so he guessed it could have been classed as relief when he turned and saw Zayn standing at his door, gripping at the doorframe for support.  
“Hi” he said, as if he hadn’t just been slicing open his legs.   
“Louis” Zayn said, before ducking out the door, returning moments later with the antiseptic wipes, much like Harry had.   
He bewilderedly handed them to Louis, too scared to touch. He wasn’t Harry, he couldn’t help Louis like he had. Louis half heartedly wiped up the blood, if only for Zayn’s sake and not his own. He tugged on some old trousers, before sitting cross legged on the bed, waiting for Zayn to say something.  
“This...your depression was more than we thought, wasn’t it?” Zayn asked in a strained voice.  
Louis nodded, pushing back his sleeves to reveal his wrists. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayn said, hating to think that Louis had been silently suffering all this time.  
“I told Harry” Louis replied simply, smiling down at his arms as if they were a much nicer sight than reality.  
“Okay...but...I just wish we could have helped you.”  
“Only I can help myself. And I don’t want to” Louis told him, before his eerie calmness cracked and he fell sobbing into Zayn’s lap. Zayn instinctively stroked his hair, hushing him in what he hoped was a soothing manner.  
“Harry” Louis cried, for no apparent reason. He didn’t even realise what he was saying, but the word kept falling from his lips.  
Zayn was nowhere near as calm as Harry had been. That was why Louis loved Harry; he could help him. Finally, Zayn could stand it no longer. “I’ll get Harry” he mumbled, pulling out his phone.  
Louis opened his mouth to protest, but couldn’t, didn’t know if he even wanted to. He could only hear one side of the conversation as Zayn called Harry. His brain vaguely registered that he must have been home quite a while since fleeing at lunchtime; if Harry was picking up his phone then school must be over.  
“Harry, get to Louis’...Yes, it is bad you prick!...He’s either crying because of you, or for you, maybe both... Just come here, okay?...No, I don’t know what to do! I’m not experienced with self harm!...Okay, good...Bye.”  
Zayn’s tone varied from concern to annoyance to resignation. When he spoke to Louis again, it was reassuring. “Harry’s coming, he says to hold on, and he loves you.”  
Zayn paced the room while he waited for Harry, Louis watching with wide eyes from his bed. His thighs stung.   
Finally, the downstairs door opened and Louis recognised Harry’s footsteps on the stairs. The door swung open and Harry walked in, eyes red and hair sticking out wildly in all directions.  
“I need to go to Niall, I briefly explained stuff in a text and he’s worried” Zayn apologised. “Besides, I think it’s best if you two are alone.” He looked to Louis for confirmation, but Louis just stared blankly ahead.   
“I’ll take care of him” Harry said.  
“You better” Zayn warned.  
When Zayn left, Harry sat with Louis on the bed, careful to leave an acceptable distance between them.  
“You broke me again” Louis said in a small voice. Harry was surprised that he’d spoke first, but grateful that the silence had been broken. “I’ve been worse than ever since you left.”  
Harry choked back a sob. “Show me” he said bluntly.  
“Why?” Louis asked stubbornly, drawing his knees to his chest.  
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Lou, I know what I did was unforgivable, and we need to talk, but first I want to make sure you’re not going to get an infection or anything.”  
Louis silently pushed down his sweats, flinching and appearing to shrink beneath Harry’s gaze.  
Unlike the last time Harry had seen Louis’ fresh cuts, this time he could not hide his shock and gasped loudly. “Lou, your thighs” he choked, but Louis just shrugged uncaringly.  
Harry unthinkingly reached out to touch Louis’ thighs, but Louis shuffled away, glaring at him. Harry felt his heart sink; just when it seemed like he’d been making progress with Louis, getting him to open up, he’d gone and ruined it all. Now, he was even further back than he was at the beginning; Louis had a solid reason to mistrust him now.  
“Just know that you caused this Harry” Louis said unfeelingly, not looking at Harry’s face, scared of what he would find there.  
“Lou, you need me to fix you though” Harry pleaded.  
“I wouldn’t be broken if it wasn’t for you.”  
Harry knew that was true, and the words stung. He’d made Louis, the boy he loved, like this, not once but twice over.  
“Then why did Zayn call me over?” This wasn’t a fight Harry was willing to lose; he needed Louis as much as Louis needed him, even if Louis was acting like he didn’t care right now.  
Louis shrugged his shoulders minimally. “Didn’t expect you to come anyway. Thought you’d rather have spent your time with Liam.”  
Harry’s brows knitted together in confusion. “I know I’ve been a dick, but what’s Liam got to do with this?”  
Louis laughed humourlessly. “You must have some courage Harry, sending me all those texts claiming you still loved me and then not even bothering to hide your new relationship from me.”  
Harry just stared at him in confusion. “New relationship? What the fuck?”  
“Don’t lie Harry, you and Liam are just adorable together” Louis spat bitterly.   
“Me and Li...No! Lou, you’ve got it wrong. Liam’s a friend. You mean way more to me than him, I love you so much.”  
“Kisses, hugs, private jokes. Tell me another Harry.”  
“Louis, listen to me. Me and Liam are not an item and never will be! Liam’s just very cuddly, he likes physical affection, and I can see why you’d have interpreted that wrong. Even if I believed there was no hope left for me and you – which I don’t – I would never enter into a new relationship so soon, and definitely wouldn’t flaunt it in front of you. I know how vulnerable you are Louis.”  
“Didn’t stop you bullying me back then” Louis replied stonily. He didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he’d drawn the wrong conclusions; Louis hated being wrong. Although there was a small part of him that felt like singing with relief at the fact that Harry and Liam weren’t together; Harry was single.  
“And I can’t apologise enough for what a twat I was. I thought I was cool, wanted people to like me. Yes, I know I was a hypocrite, and I know most people wouldn’t forgive me. But you aren’t most people Lou; you’re amazing and beautiful and I love you so fucking much. I’ve changed; after that whole incident hit its peak, it made me crumble. I rebuilt my whole character, and I like to think that I’m a much better person now. You don’t see me going round hitting people now, do you? Time travel would be an amazing gift, but I don’t possess it. So all I can ask is that we can move on from that? If you let me in I’ll never tear you down again, I promise you that now.” Harry couldn’t think of anything else to say; if Louis didn’t forgive him now, he probably never would. Harry knew that wouldn’t be good for neither Louis nor him. They were both dependent on each other.  
Louis looked at Harry for the first time then, an indistinguishable emotion burning in his eyes. He raised a shaky hand, and before Harry could comprehend what was happening, slapped him harshly across the face. He was surprisingly strong for such a small, skinny person, and Harry drew back in shock, hand flying upwards to rub his stinging cheek.  
“I deserved that” he admitted. “Feel better now?”  
Louis shook his head, and his anger gave way to vulnerability. “I just want you” he admitted in a whispered tone. “But you’re a dick.”  
Harry inched closer to him on the bed, and Louis practically fell on him, grabbing at his shirt with tiny hands as he tried to find a place to hold himself steady. Harry gently adjusted him so he wasn’t pressing on his crotch, instead curled into his side, sobbing into Harry’s shoulder and grabbing the material covering his ribs, one leg across Harry’s lap.  
“Lou, you don’t have to let me in if you really do hate me. But I think you and I both need an answer.”  
Harry rocked Louis slightly, gripping him tightly as if he was afraid Louis would turn him away. Louis drew a shuddering breath. “You broke me, but I’m even more broken without you. I need you Hazzi, whether I like it or not.”  
If it had been appropriate, Harry’s face would have broken out in a grin. Instead, he kissed Louis’ hair, and untangled one hand from Louis’ back to cup Louis’ hands. “Thank you Louis, fucking hell, I honestly thought you were going to turn me down” he breathed, overcome with emotion and words spilling out.  
“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna trust you straight away” Louis mumbled, attempting to be threatening, but it didn’t really work, seeing as he was buried into Harry’s t-shirt, face a blubbering mess.  
***  
Harry began sitting with Louis, Zayn and Niall at lunch again. Sometimes Liam and a few others of his group sat with them, and their lunch table became comparatively crowded. They didn’t mind though, and got on well with the other boys. Louis saw for himself how touchy feely Liam was, and realised that he’d completely misjudged his and Harry’s relationship; there was no chemistry at all, not like there was between Harry and Louis.  
As Louis said, it took a while for him to trust Harry again. He’d find himself opening up, only to suddenly remember and draw right back within himself, refusing to talk to anybody. Times like this were disheartening to Harry, but Louis gave him a little bit more with each day that passed, more than he did anyone else. Harry always helped Louis whenever he needed him, and Louis began to realise for himself just how much Harry had changed from the boy who used to bully him.   
Louis’ depression didn’t just suddenly lift; he hadn’t expected it to and it probably never would. At first, he’d remained quite sad, not talking a lot, and Harry had noticed new scars almost every day. But as he began to accept things, realise he really couldn’t turn back time and would just have to make the most of the Harry he had now, he began to smile more. The cuts began to fade to scars, the razor’s appearances became less frequent. He was happy and joking in school, and was more open than ever before.  
Of course, he had moments of weakness, where he could see no other option than to turn to the blades. Harry was always there though, holding him and cleaning his wrists, drying his tears and kissing him repeatedly. He never felt unloved, and began showing his love for Harry more openly.  
Zayn became more understanding towards Louis ever since he’d found him cutting himself, and Louis was grateful; didn’t feel so much like a freak anymore. Niall was forever trying to cheer him up, and the others in the group picked up on the fact that Louis sometimes needed a bit more support and times where he just needed to be by himself, or with Harry.  
Louis and Harry’s physical relationship had had to slow down; Louis haunted by all the times Harry had hit him. Harry had been gentle and slow, and Louis had slowly let the memories begin to fade, replaced by new, positive ones.  
When Louis felt he was ready, he exposed himself utterly and completely to Harry. They’d talked many times about the topic of sex, Louis stating firmly that while he was happy for things like blow jobs and getting each other off, sex was just too big for him to handle. He was scared, and because Harry was more experienced he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.   
But eventually, his hormones won the fight over his mentality, and he shyly told Harry that he was ready.  
Harry had been eager, obviously. He’d been waiting over five months for this. He’d been sure to be completely certain that this was what Louis wanted, and he was as relaxed as possible.  
Louis had quickly and confidently undressed Harry, sucking a deep love bite underneath the jut of his hip, before slipping down his own trousers and boxers, and raising his arms for Harry to rid him of his shirt. When they were both naked, Harry pulled Louis astride him, hands caressing his scarred thighs while he met their lips in a passionate kiss.  
Louis ground down experimentally, moaning when the friction sent electricity shooting up his veins. Harry bucked up into him in response, and Louis bit gently on Harry’s earlobe, hot breath making Harry shiver.  
Harry flipped Louis over, pinning his hands above their heads with one hand and grabbing the small bottle of lube with the other. “S’gonna be uncomfortable” he panted, biting down on Louis’ bottom lip. Louis just spread his legs wider, wordlessly telling Harry he was ready.   
Harry slowly entered a finger, and Louis whimpered, walls clenching around Harry. Harry let Louis adjust before adding a second, curling them slightly and watching as Louis squirmed, beginning to feel the pleasure break through the pain. Harry added a third finger and thrusted them slowly, murmuring encouragements into Louis’ mouth, stroking all down his body with his spare hand.  
He thrusted quickly in, knuckle deep, hearing the cry of pleasure as he hit Louis’ prostate, before pulling his fingers out, causing Louis to whine disappointedly.  
Harry handed a condom to Louis, instructing him to put it on in a raspy voice. Louis pumped Harry’s length a couple of times, before rolling on the condom. Harry smothered his dick in a generous amount of lube, before grabbing the base and positioning himself by Louis entrance.  
Louis cried out in broken tones as Harry slowly inched in, filling him up and stretching him like he’d never imagined. He bit down on Harry’s chest, tongue swirling around a nipple, breathing laboured as he struggled to get used to the feeling of having Harry inside him.  
Harry shut his eyes and moaned at the tight heat, focusing on Louis’ wrecked features as he tried to stop himself from pounding into him. Eventually, Louis lifted his hips up nervously, sparks of pleasure shooting through him. He pulled on Harry’s hips, and Harry began thrusting, increasing his speed quickly, knowing neither of them would last long. He threw Louis’ legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and eliciting gasps from Louis. He all down Louis’ jaw bone and neck, stopping occasionally to gently nip at the sensitive skin. “Fuck Harry, harder, yeah, oh right there, ugh, yeah.” He drank in every one of Louis’ cries, hitting his prostate on every stroke. His thrusts became sloppier, and he closed his eyes, toes curling as he came with a cry of Louis’ name, spilling into the condom but keeping going throughout his orgasm, until he felt Louis clench around him. Louis came between their stomachs, Harry pulling out and laying panting beside him as he quickly disposed of the condom.  
***  
When they left school, Louis was worried that Harry would want to go off and do his own things, forget about Louis. But Harry had promised to be there for Louis, and it was a promise he could not and would not break. Harry and Louis, as well as a few of their other friends, stayed on at sixth form. They went to prom together, and Louis could honestly say it was one of his best nights ever. Almost every single thought of self hatred was completely eliminated.  
He and Harry took different subjects, but they always ate together at lunch time, and were saving up to buy a flat together. They helped each other revise (although not much revision actually got done) and just simply spent time together, doing whatever the hell they felt like doing. They both learned to put the past behind them, and Louis realised that people can change, if you just give them the chance. He couldn’t change what Harry had done, but that was Harry Cox, not his boyfriend Harry Styles. Harry Styles was completely different, and hopefully some day would no longer be Harry Styles, but Harry Tomlinson-Styles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and leaving kudos, comments, etc. :)


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